


Nothing Compares

by Femalefonzie



Category: Gangs of New York (2002), Moulin Rouge! (2001), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (kinda), 1830s, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Amsterdam is not his real name, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Attempt at Humor, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Gen, M/M, Mpreg, Origin Story, Past Christian/Satine (Moulin Rouge!), Pregnant Sex, QuiObi Adjacent, Tags May Change, Time Line is a Little Fucky, Unplanned Pregnancy, Victorian Attitudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26150692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Femalefonzie/pseuds/Femalefonzie
Summary: Inspired by some of Orientalld's amazing artwork.After losing Satine, Christian decides to leave France in pursuit of a fresh start. He ends up in New York City, in the Five Points, where he catches the attention of the local gang leader Priest Vallon and slowly starts to fall in love again...
Relationships: Christian (Moulin Rouge!)/"Priest" Vallon (Gangs of New York), Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 32
Kudos: 40





	1. Brand New Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have been following this incredible artist Orientalld on Tumblr and Patreon and as I was browsing through some of their art I found this really cute one of Christian from Moulin Rouge and Priest Vallon from Gangs of New York (which I will not be posting here because I don't want to steal their art but trust me when I saw it's worth supporting them on Patreon. They also have a bunch of great Obikin, Stony, Hannigram, and just Star Wars in general art so I would check it out). I saw it and immediately knew I wanted to write something for it (originally just some fluff involving them and Amsterdam as a baby) but then I sat down to jot things out and plot happened. 
> 
> So why make this fic an alpha/beta/omega dynamic story? Well, I've accepted that it's bread and butter and when I was doing some brainstorming for this fic, I pulled up pictures of Priest Vallon, Christian, and Amsterdam (both as an adult and as a child) and was like "...huh." I have a picture of my "math" that I may put up later but it was enough to convince me to make it A/B/O so I could write in some stuff with Christian and Vallon with Amsterdam later on.

Somehow Christian had gotten lost. He wasn't certain how he could get lost when he had no real end destination in mind but the second he rounded the corner and ended up in the middle of bustling square populated only with groups of men growling and hurling insults at each other, he knew that he was lost. He should have just followed the nicer couple that got off the boat ahead of him instead of wandering around like someone who was on holiday and letting his feet guide the way. Especially considering he was in not just a new neighborhood, a new city, or a new country, but a new continent! Fuck, he needed to start figuring his shit out. It was going to get him killed. 

He'd lasted nearly two years in Paris after losing Satine before it finally became unbearable. She had been a stake through his heart, a wound that never completely healed, but she had only been the first. Not long after her death, the Moulin Rouge closed and all of his friends, all of the other courtesans and performers scrambled off to find meaningful employment somewhere else and, had he not been in the middle of writing his & Satine's story, blinded by his grief, Christian may have followed them. Rather he should have followed them. By the time he finished writing and took a look around, he was completely and utterly alone. But there were benefits to being alone. Namely that there was nothing preventing him from leaving to try and carve out his place somewhere else. He considered going back to England, but that meant facing his parents and Christian was never going to muster enough courage to do that, and he did not want to risk Scotland or Wales given his family's frequent visits amongst the islands. Ireland was a safe bet, his parents had sworn they would never step foot there, but given Christian's lack of stable income and the current food situation it seemed like an incredibly stupid decision. So that left him with two options: either Christian could proceed further into Europe, to Switzerland or Italy or even Denmark, or he could book passage across the Atlantic and try his luck in America. He picked the later and after a month of scrimping and saving, the young man found himself in steerage surrounded by countless families making the voyage. It was quite the intimidating trip for a number of reasons, the primary being Christian's status as an unmated Omega and he was just grateful that he had enough luck not to go into heat during the trip when he was surrounded by countless alphas and betas. Even if he had been traveling with friends, it would not have done much to prevent the stares and the giggles and the comments whispered under breath whenever he passed by someone. Perhaps that was why Christian had been so thoughtless in his journey once he got stable ground beneath his feet; the urge to get away, stretch his legs, and not have to worry about bumping into any gross alphas who hadn't washed in six weeks. Imagine his surprised when he ended up _here_. Wherever here was. 

Christian made the quick decision to just speed up his pace and get out of the dodge as quickly as possible It was in his haste that the young Omega accidentally jostled shoulders with another man, gathered up near the edge of a fence with a couple of others. Not enough to hurt or to even send one of them stumbling to the ground but hard enough to catch both of their attentions. "Oh!" Christian exclaimed. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see-"

"Watch where you're going you damn wanker!" The man snarled. Christian just stared back at him blankly. Surely this man could see that it was an accident and not worth getting into a fight over...right? When Christian didn't immediately drop to his knees and apologize the man took a large stomp forward, getting right up in Christian's face. "What's the matter, Yankee-doodle, got nothing to say?!"

What the hell was a Yankee-doodle? Christian doubted that the man would be willing to tell him. "I'm sorry-"

"McGloin," A firm voice, dripping with confidence and authority and slightly tanged by an accent Christian was able to immediately recognize as being Irish, called out and it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the square. The group surrounding them disbanded, parting to the sides to allow the man that voice belonged to step through. Christian looked up and gulped. He was a mountain of a man, tall, broad-shouldered, with a set of muscular arms that looked like they could rip a tree clear out of the ground. An alpha in every sense of the word, Christian could tell even before the man got close enough for him to catch a faint whiff of his scent. He smelled like whiskey and the old leatherbound books that filled the shelves at Christian's family home back in London. He was handsome too; with dark brown hair, a nicely trimmed mustache, and a set of the deepest blue eyes that Christian had ever seen. "The lad apologized. Show a little restraint. It was an accident." "Right?"

The man, McGloin's, response was immediate. "Yes!" He practically cried out and threw his arms up in his own defense. All the while the larger of the men just glared down at him. Sensing that he was getting nowhere with his leader, McGloin spun around to face Christian again, "Yes, yes! Just an accident! I'm really sorry!"

A smirk appeared on the larger man's face and he placed his hand on McGloin's shoulder, giving it what appeared to Christian as an uncomfortably tight squeeze. "See? No harm done." He told the other man and then shoved him to the side, moving him as if he weighed nothing at all, so he could take a step closer to the Omega in question. His smirk transformed into a genuine, charming smile and he slowly reached forward, taking hold of one of Christian's hand and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it, "Now allow me to offer my sincerest apologies for the actions of my companion."

"Oh." Christian mumbled softly and he could practically feel the color rushing to his cheeks. "It's quite alright. Thank you."

"I am Vallon," The larger man stated. "And you will have to forgive me for asking but what is such a...well dressed young man such as yourself doing around the point?"

"Christian." The writer replied and though he had initially been hesitant to share any of his personal details, he could not help but let a couple of things slip. It had just been so long since he last had a friendly face to vent to and the Alpha, Vallon, seemed so sincere. "I'm afraid I'm just overwhelmed. I wasn't expecting the city to be so-" Busy, cramped together, crawling with people, and loud. It seemed that everywhere he looked there were hundreds of strangers, hundreds of angry, grimey faces, that reminded the poor man of just how alone he was. He could not have stayed in Paris, Christian knew that to be true, and what remained of his pride prevented him from going back to London and groveling at his father's feet, which left him with only one further option. But now that he was here and standing on American soil it was just setting in that there wasn't anyone else who he could turn to. It was just him. 

"You just got here then?" Vallon replied but what he said next had chills rolling down the smaller man's spine. "Do you have arrangements made for a place to stay?"

No. No, he did not. Christian had barely managed to scrape together enough money from his last sale to purchase the passage to America, let alone message ahead and find himself a place to sleep. There it was again, that naivety of his that was always leading him into waters far deeper than he could tread. Up until this point his plans had involved wandering the city blocks until he could find a boarding house or an inn that he could afford a couple of nights in while he found a more permanent living arrangement. But some strange alpha did not need to know that! No matter how nice he smelled! "I'm perfectly fine, I assure you," Christian said quickly. "Thank you."

And on that note Christian decided to take his leave. Rather than continue on his initial path, Christian decided to double back and just go around another way, taking another street that circled around the Five Points instead of cutting straight through it. The people at least seemed...less confrontational that way. To his surprise (and only the slightest amount of disappointment), Vallon made no efforts to stop him from leaving. Christ, he couldn't be doing this again. Someone showed him even the faintest tremor of affection and suddenly he was seeing stars. He'd literally just gotten off the boat an hour ago for God's sake! Christian groaned into his hands as he walked. 

Behind him, back in the center of the Five Points square, Vallon watched the smaller man leave. It was a shame to see him go, to not be able to see the little Omega's beautiful face, though he was thoroughly enjoying watching the slight sway of his hips as he walked and the view of other's backside. That boy had to have sat in a pile of sugar because damn, that ass was sweet! Vallon was only vaguely aware of McGloin scoffing at his side, "You better be pulling us for a laugh "He's a yank-"

"He's English, you fuckbag. Can hear it in his voice." Happy Jack answered in place of Vallon and casually draped one of his arms around Vallon's shoulders, leaning in close with a cheeky grin that was normally reserved for whenever McGloin was getting comeuppance for running his mouth. "Though that does not excuse the Priest here fawning over him."

"I do not fawn." Vallon insisted. "He is a...pretty young man though, is he not?"

McGloin rolled his eyes, "Pretty or not there is no way _that_ one would ever crawl willingly into your bed. Give him a week, he'll be out of here or snuggling up to the Natives."

It wouldn't be the first time but somehow Vallon got the feeling that this was different, that this one was different from all the others that got off those boats. As he and his fellow Dead Rabbits started back towards the bar, he could not help but smile a little as he thought of those beautiful sky blue eyes and soft, sweet little voice, "Christian." He said to himself. He was going to remember that name. 


	2. Seeing Blind

Christian managed to make it a week before he was back in the Five Points again. 

It wasn't much of a matter of choice as it was a matter of his funds getting low and his inability to land stable employment or a patron to support his writing. Suddenly the bed he had been renting in one of the boarding homes uptown, this nice little place with only a couple of rooms and cared for by the sweetest little old lady, became much too expensive and there was only so much Christian could do to prolong his stay. The landlady had found him charming, had brought him cookies and tea, listened to his musings and whatever draft he was currently on, and constantly stated that Christian reminded her of her grandchildren. Though he felt a twinge of guilt, this connection allowed the young man to extend his stay for as long as possible before finally it could not be ignored. Uptown was just too much for him at the moment. Just as he was gathering up his things, the landlady piped up, in what had to have been an effort to be helpful, that there were numerous boarding houses on the way to Brooklyn that were more in his price range. Well, Christian couldn't very well tell the woman who had been so kind to him that he was more than a little anxious to be in lower Manhattan so he thanked her for the advice and walked with care. 

He managed to secure a bed at a place that tittered on the edge of the Five Points. It was a considerable step down from where Christian had been staying before. Gone were the kind landladies with their trays of cookies and the private bedrooms with handsewn quilts, replaced by filthy old men with missing teeth and a beer gut and creaking, rusty cots with scratchy blankets. One good thing came out of the move though; it gave Christian the drive to write and get as far away from the Five Points as possible. Every morning Christian would get up, get cleaned up, gather up his things, and then head out to find some quiet place where he could work without being interrupted. Most of the time he was left to his own devices. Whenever he had to bite the bullet and pass through the Five Points, people looked away when they saw him coming, and Christian was grateful. After his run-in with McGloin, he wasn't in the mood to face off against another for something completely ridiculous and he valued his privacy. It occurred to him, after a couple of days of this cycle, that the avoidance may have been the result of Vallon's interference but he shook those thoughts aside quickly. The man had only met him once. Why would he do that? Christian chalked it up to him imagining things and moved on. 

When he had left the boarding house on this particular morning, Christian had been feeling a tad bold as he cut through the square, satchel tucked under one arm and headed towards a nearby park to get some writing in while he people watched. As Christian passed by an empty alleyway, however, he felt an arm reach out and snake around his waist as a hand clamped across his mouth. Before he could even let out a scream, he was shoved up against a brick wall and was able to get a good look at his attacker. The man was tall, thin, but by no means weak looking. There was a wildness in his eyes that made the young Omega want to curl up in a ball and cry and he was glaring down at him with such intensity as if Christian had personally wronged him. Then he spoke and somehow that made things so much more terrifying because it meant one thing that the writer had not considered; that in that time he had been out walking around, thinking himself to be secure if even only slightly, someone had been watching him. "You know, we don't get many of your kind around these parts." The man muttered, lowering his hand. "Limey bastard straight from across the pond..." 

"New York is a city built on immigration." Christian interrupted him before the man could launch into what the writer presumed to be a tirade blasting anything that wasn't white, male, alpha, and American, and he made an attempt to wriggle free. The other man's grip around his waist tightened to the point where it was almost painful in response. "Excuse me-"

"New York is a city pushed to the brink by vermin like you!" The man spat, spewing saliva right into the writer's face. "By the masses coming in and pushing us Natives into chaos! My father died for this country, you know-"

"I'm sorry but I wasn't the one who killed him!" Christ, he hadn't even been in the country for a month yet and he was getting blasted at for every terrible thing that had ever happened to the city of New York?! Christian really did not know how he got into these situations. Maybe he just had a magnet for crazy. "Let me go..."

"Not yet." With his arm still locked in an iron-tight embrace around Christian's waist, his free hand reached up to graze the Omega's cheek, tilting the writer's head up and forcing him to look directly into his wild eyes. "You know, for a pompous stiff, you're kind of cute."

Christian's efforts to break free were revitalized tenfold and he started to squirm and thrash, "Get-"

"There a problem here Bill?" A familiar voice called out and just like that a wave of relief crashed over the poor Omega. Christian peaked up over his tormenter's shoulder to see a face he would never forget lingering near the entryway to the alley. Vallon, the man who was shaping up to be his knight in shining armor, looked over the scene before him with flames dancing in his eyes, the rage radiating off of him in waves. His sudden appearance was enough to cause the man, Bill's, hold over Christian to loosen and he was quickly able to break free though he still remained wedged between Bill and the wall. 

"Nothing that concerns you, Priest." Bill retorted. 

"Considering that you're pushing around one of mine," Vallon replied. "It does."

The expression on Bill's face morphed into one that would have been comical had the situation been any different. He looked as if someone had come up, slapped a pair of handcuffs on him, and then admitted to having lewd relations with his mother knowing that the man would be unable to do a single thing about it. "Ah." He murmured finally and took a couple of steps back, finally giving Christian the room to scramble away. Somehow he found himself at Vallon's side, clutching the Alpha's arm as if it were a life-line. Bill scoffed at the sight, "Bet your whole crew has a laugh about it? About the Paddy bastard getting a leg up on the English bitch. Well, have at it." He pushed past the pair, heading out into the square, and disappearing amongst the crowd. 

"Pleasure as always, Bill." Vallon called after him. Even with Bill's departure, Christian still clung to Vallon's arm, earning himself a look of concern from the alpha. "You alright?"

"Fine," Christian answered simply. "...You're a priest?"

Vallon cracked a smile, "No. They just call me that." He answered. "Best to avoid Bill the Butcher in the future. He's scrawny but pissed off, fights like he doesn't care if he lives or dies which, quite frankly, I think he doesn't." And that was an incredibly dangerous combination. Some day that instability was going to get someone into a lot of trouble with the butcher and he could easily overpower the smaller man, force him into another alley, and the next time Vallon may not be there to come to his rescue. 

It was at that moment that Christian became aware of the fact that he was still latched onto Vallon's arm and he quickly let go, dusted himself off, and tried to compose himself as best as humanly possible. Luckily he was wearing mostly black so most of the dust and the dirt that had gotten onto his clothes during the encounter was unnoticeable. Just because he was staying in a hole in the wall did not mean he had to dress like he was. "Well, thank you for helping me." 

"Where are you headed?"

"I was going to get some breakfast and then get some work done." Despite everything, Christian could not help the proud smile that formed upon his lips. "I'm a writer."

"I thought so," said Vallon. "You have very vibrant eyes, the eyes of an artist." Though he had been unable to determine what kind of artist from their brief introduction. Not a painter, Vallon knew that for certain. Painters always had the faintest speckles of whatever color they had been using dusting their clothes no matter how many times they washed and the Omega was so prim and pressed considering the circumstances. Not a sculptor either. Such soft and delicate hands had never touched raw clay. "Would you mind if I accompanied you? It would help keep Bill at bay."

Christian, who had been adjusting the strap of his satchel, froze. He stood there still for a few moments, not even fiddling with the strap of his bag, before finally speaking again. "Fine." He said softly. "So why do they call you Priest?"

"Because I'm a Catholic. And the leader of the Dead Rabbits. One of the guys called me it once or twice and it stuck." 

The young writer managed a laugh but it sounded weak even to him, "Oh. Catholic leader, priest, that's very clever." 

"Is everything alright?" Vallon asked. 

"I'm fine. It's just..." How could he explain everything that had happened in a way that did Satine justice? Just by spending time with the Alpha, Christian felt the pangs of betrayal spreading within his chest. Satine may have been dead but she had been his first love, an intense love, and the last thing that he could bear to do was forget about her. But Vallon had not done anything to give him a reason to be anxious. Every time that Christian had seen him, the man had been nothing but helpful, and by Christian wanted his company. He was tired of sitting alone on park benches watching people instead of interacting with people, of watching couples walking by holding onto each other's hands, while all he could do was sit and imagine the intricacies of their lives together. But how he could he explain all of that? He could try and write a letter, maybe even offer Vallon a copy of what he had written about the fallen courtesan, but he didn't even know if Vallon could read! Certainly, such a man that spoke so eloquently had to know. And, if he didn't, well Christian could not ignore the appeal of teaching him. The small, sophisticated Omega sitting next to the big, burly, rugged Alpha, leaning over his shoulder as he pointed out words and helped him sound it out. It was an enticing fantasy. 

To his surprise, Vallon didn't get angry, didn't scoff or scowl or accuse Christian of misleading him. Instead, he placed his hand on Christian's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I understand." He said. "If you ever need anything though, I'm always around." 

"Why?" Christian asked. This man didn't know him. All he had known about him had come from two encounters in which Christian had stumbled into trouble, resulting in Vallon sprinting to his rescue. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you're different. I can tell." And Vallon was willing to go as slow as he needed to experience even the faintest trace of that.


	3. Two More Lonely People

They were sitting in the park on a quaint little bench underneath a grand oak tree when Christian finally brought up the elephant that had been stomping around inside his chest, silently tormenting him and making him feel uncomfortable. "I was in Paris for a while," He admitted. "Managed to sell a show of mine. Courtesans performed it."

"Courtesans," Vallon repeated. "The wealthy man's whores." Christian winced and his less than positive reaction did not go unnoticed by the Alpha who was quickly able to put two and two together. "I did not mean to offend you-"

"No," Christian replied with a soft little sigh. "I know."

"You had one of them, didn't you?"

"I loved one." The Omega corrected him. It was not a matter of having or not having, it was a matter of genuine love. Yes, there had been a lot of...having with Satine but it had never been anything less than making love, something that a lot of people would never be able to understand completely given her...profession. But somehow Christian believed that Vallon would be able to. "And it was different. We loved each other. Genuinely."

The Alpha nodded his head. He could only imagine how exciting it would have been to be involved with a woman like that, with someone so beautiful that dozens of people were lining up to throw money at her feet for the sole reason of being so beautiful. To have such a woman adore you, touch you, caress you...and then end up in this shithole getting leered at by racist butchers and picked on by half-drunk Irishmen... "But love doesn't pay the bills."

"No." Christian agreed in a voice so much softer than Vallon had ever heard from him before. Without intending, he'd struck another nerve and the Alpha felt like mentally slapping himself across the face for fucking up so consistently and so repeatedly. "But that isn't why I came here." He went on. For all their money troubles, for all of the hate the Duke carried in his heart for the pair of them, Christian would have remained in Paris, remained in that particular brand of poverty, so long as he still had Satine at his side. "She died."

A silent pause fell between the two men. Christian stared forward, clutching his hands, while Vallon just sat next to him unsure of what to do. He settled upon gently taking one of Christian's hands into his own and giving it a gentle squeeze, "I'm sorry Lad." He said. "I had my fair share over the years, sweetest omegas to cross the district, but it was all the same." It was all loss, all a terrible, terrible, loss that could never be healed. "Tell me about your girl."

"Satine." Christian quickly supplied. "Her name was Satine. And I honestly think you would have liked her. She was a very confident young woman, very strong. A beta but she could play both ways." She could be domineering and take control, just as any stereotypical Alpha would, or she could be sickeningly sweet and soft. A faint blush started to form on his cheeks, "The first time we met I thought I was showing her some of my poetry and she thought I was-...someone else. She writhed and moaned on the bed as I stuttered through my lines, even grabbed at my groin as I tried to scramble away-"

Vallon let out a low chuckle, "So, what I'm gathering here is that when someone wants to have sex with you they need to be abundantly clear?"

The faint blush dusting the writer's cheeks deepened into a bright, vibrant red that seemingly spread across his entire face. "N-n-not abundantly." He stuttered out. "Besides I don't know if I want to right now..."

Vallon gave his hand another gentle squeeze and it was only then that Christian realized that the Alpha was still holding his hand. This time though he did not yank it away and felt as the Alpha soothingly stroked his thumb over the back of his hand, "I understand." Vallon replied. 

"You...You don't want to leave me now, do you?"

"No," Vallon replied. "You are a very interesting young man, Christian, and I want to know everything that I can about you. Like I said before, you're different."

"Some would call that naive."

"Innocent." Vallon corrected him. "And there is nothing wrong with innocence."

That was a fact that Christian was sure he could disagree with but he did not feel like getting into a debate after what felt like a huge weight being lifted off of his shoulders through their exchange. That just seemed counterproductive; switching one weight for another. "What about you?" He asked. "How'd you get here?"

"Same as every other Irishman in this city," Vallon answered. "I was starving."

* * *

"So," Vallon asked as he relaxed back against the old, scratchy pillow on Christian's cot. "What is this show about?"

He had been making regular visits to the boarding house ever since their first day out together and Christian was gradually becoming more and more comfortable around him. Enough so that he bouncing his musings off of the alpha, was making more and more frequent appearances in the Five Points, and there were even times during Vallon's visit to Christian's room where the Alpha would be curled up in his bed and Christian would join him, crawl right in next to the other man, and rest his head against his shoulder. This day in particular though, Christian was situated at the other end of the bed, scribbling things in his notepad as he worked on his latest work; a show. 

"It's about a man, a good man, an honorable man, an alpha," Christian explained. He would have made the protagonist a young omega such as himself but he had learned long ago that stories centered around an omega did not sell as well as those that centered around an alpha. It was selling out, in the smallest of ways, but it was what he needed to do to get some cash in his pocket. "In their homeland, his family is starving and facing persecution from ruthless landlords." He had taken a clear inspiration from real life, one that may or may not have been influenced by his new companion, and Vallon knew this judging by the smirk that formed on his lips. Christian continued, 

"So he decides to come to America, work, make money, and send for his wife and child when he is settled to join him. It goes well at first but then he receives notice from home. His wife has been murdered, his omega child taken to be groomed for an early marriage, and he must return to save him."

Vallon tilted his head slightly as the weight of the plot sank in. While not unheard of, similar events had happened on occasion both in real life and in the pages of a novel. Still, he wanted to hear what Christian had in mind, "How does it end?"

Now, here was where Christian had a problem. He paused and stared down at the words he had scribbled on the pages. "That depends." He said softly. "Realistically the landlord has more money and power...so he'd kill the man and take the poor boy as his mate." Christian gulped and shifted awkwardly in his seat. It certainly was a departure from his previous work and he was unsure how many people would be lining up to buy their copy of something so dreary. He heard the mattress springs squeak in protest as Vallon rose to his feet and padded his way over behind the Omega. He placed his hands on Christian's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze, 

"Not necessarily." He offered. "That is an unhappy ending and it may be realistic to some but not all. Circumstances change." They just needed to figure out the circumstances surrounding the characters that would allow a happy ending to occur naturally. That was the beauty of writing fiction. After a moment, Vallon came up with one possible solution, "Perhaps this father is different than the others. Skilled in combat. A soldier who can use those skills to save his child."

"If the man was a soldier it would be unrealistic for him to fail in retrieving him from some pompous landlord." Pompous rich people did not have much experience in fighting their own battles, Christian knew that firsthand. Most certainly someone strong, someone like Vallon, would be able to hold his own against someone so utterly ridiculous and full of himself like The Duke. Christian broke out into a grin and he quickly scratched out the proposed downer ending from his notes, replacing it with Vallon's suggestion. He did not brush Vallon's hands away or ask him to remove them so the Alpha kept them there, 

"Happy endings are possible," He reminded the writer. "Just change the circumstances."


	4. All of Me

The Dead Rabbits prided themselves on their loyalty. Dozens of men and women, devoted to the gang, willing to lay down their lives on a moment's notice at the command of their fearless and respected leader Priest Vallon. So, when the Priest had come to his closest, most trusted companions and informed them of an important mission to be undertaken uptown that night, Maggie, Happy Jack, and McGloin were more than happy to accept. They met after nightfall in the square and let Vallon lead the way through the busy streets before they finally came to a halt in front of a brick building that not a single one of them had ever stepped foot inside before. All around them New York's upper class swarmed, some waiting outside for their friends to arrive, others going ahead and heading in, with the four Dead Rabbits looking incredibly out of place. McGloin groaned, "You're kidding, right?" Vallon couldn't honestly expect them to sit through a fucking _play_ of all things...

"No," Vallon replied and produced three thin slices of paper from his pocket. He shoved one into each of their hands and gestured towards the theater entrance, "No, I am not kidding. So sit down, smile, and for the love of everything that is holy do not fall asleep or I will slit your damn throats." 

Christian hadn't been able to sell anything in months so when he came up to Vallon not too long ago, grinning from ear to ear and going on and on about getting one of the smaller theaters to put on his latest shows, the Alpha knew exactly what he needed to do. Like any good suitor, he was going to be supportive and drag his friends along to the premiere, kicking and screaming if need be. Luckily it did not come to that point. A couple of choice words and he had everyone exactly where he wanted them to be. Unable to protest and already there, the trio of Dead Rabbits collectively groaned and shuffled along inside, murmuring their complaints under their breath. "Why couldn't he fall for some painter or something?" Happy Jack asked no on in particular. "We wouldn't have to go to shows then."

Maggie chuckled but her gaze landed on the man in question standing near the front of the theater speaking with who she assumed was the theater director. Though she hadn't met her leader's sweetheart in person yet she knew that who he was from Vallon's frequent drunken poetic descriptions; the sweetest and brightest blue eyes, hair dark as midnight, and a grin that could outshine the sun. "He is a sweet young thing though, isn't he?" She asked and her cohorts could not find themselves disagreeing. Partially because it was true and partially because Vallon had taken his seat and would hear what they had to say. 

Unfortunately, Vallon's instincts had been correct. By the time the show began, the audience was only at half capacity and that could not mean much in regards to how many performances the theater would be ordering but it was a start. Christian had sold another show, had some money back in his pocket, and was establishing the connections necessary to survive as a writer in this city. And, seeing as they made it about halfway through the show before McGloin and Maggie started to silently drift off, Vallon believed that he could. If he was as good of a writer that he could keep those idiots awake and aware... And then there was the matter of him and Happy Jack. Vallon glanced over just once when he heard the faintest sniffle and even in the dim lights of the theater he could tell that Jack was struggling to hold back the tears. The Alpha couldn't help but smirk. His boy was such a talented writer he was able to bring a gang member to tears.

There was about twenty minutes left of the show when Vallon felt a gentle tapping on his shoulder and he looked back to see another one of his Rabbits crouched down in the aisle, "Priest." He greeted him in a hushed whisper. "Bill's outside. He's challenging. Wants to fight now."

"Fucking Bill." Vallon groaned. This had to be intentional. The bastard had to have known of his plans for the evening. Well, he was willing to play his games. And Vallon would win too! "We need to be back before curtain call." He whispered back to his underling and rose to his feet. 

* * *

While he admittedly had been hoping for a bigger turnout Christian couldn't be happier than he was when he saw Priest Vallon sitting alongside several of his closest companions ready to watch his show. Yes, the others looked as if they would rather be anywhere else on the planet but between them was their leader, was the kind-hearted Alpha who had quickly found his way to Christian's heart, and he could not ignore the way his heart beat faster upon seeing the Priest's face. It could no longer be ignored that Christian had developed feelings for the other man, feelings that were growing stronger with each passing moment and, despite the show being his own, Christian found himself longing for the final curtain so that he could shake off his responsibilities and go straight to Vallon's side. Which was precisely what he did. The second the lights went back up and the cast was back in their dressing rooms getting changed, Christian was off making his way through the rows of seats looking for the other. "Vallon?" He called out. Where could he have gotten to so quickly? 

He decided to try the alley. McGloin seemed like the type who would try to get out of there and as far from the 'stiffy upper-class' crowd as quickly possible and it was always a possibility that he had dragged the others with him. Christian decided to take the side exit to save time and stepped out into an unbelievable scene. "Vallon!" He shouted.

The alleyway was empty except for the Dead Rabbits who had been in attendance at the show and a bloody Bill Cutting who was currently being held up by the collar of his shirt by one Priest Vallon who went ghostly pale the second he heard the Omega's voice. "Christian!" He yelped, "This isn't what it looks like-"

Bill just smirked, "Good luck trying to worm your way out of this one, Father."

"Christian I-" Before Vallon could finish that thought the Omega was racing over to them with a furious glare upon his face. He drew his arm back and open-palm slapped Bill across the face with enough force to leave a fierce red mark across his cheek. Vallon froze, unsure of what to do or even say, his grip on the Native relaxing as he just stared at the Omega standing next to him, "Damn." He murmured softly. That should not have been as alluring as the Alpha found it to be. Fuck, if they were already mated Vallon would have cut his losses with Bill, pull Christian into the nearest isolated little alleyway, and take him hard against the wall. 

The writer was not done just yet, however, and he quickly took over where the Alpha had left off; grabbing Bill by the collar and screaming into his face, "Leave us alone!" 

Vallon was not the only one at a complete loss for words. Bill stared at the Omega blankly, one of his hands reaching up to graze the mark staining his cheek. "You-" He could not find the words to finish that statement. All Bill could think about was what his fellow Natives would say when they realized that he had allowed an Omega to lay a hand upon him. He stared down at Christian, at the fury brewing in the writer's normally sparkling blue eyes, and shrunk back. The second Christian let go Bill was scrambling off, disappearing back into the New York City night. 

"Wow," Vallon said softly, his voice snapping the Omega out of whatever trance he was currently locked in. Christian closed the distance between them, his arms snaking around Vallon's shoulders as he pulled him down into a deep kiss. It took the Alpha a moment to realize what was happening but when he did, Vallon took advantage of their closeness to wrap his arms around Christian's waist and, if one of his hands drifted a little lower, resting just above the curve of the writer's ass, Christian certainly did not object. 

"Wow!" Maggie shouted from the other end of the alley and she quickly shooed her other two companions away to let the couple have their privacy. "Come on guys. Leave them alone for a few moments."

Their kiss lasted for only a few moments but for both Christian and Vallon it seemed like an eternity. When they finally broke apart, if for no reason other than needing to breathe, Vallon grinned, "My Sweet, I do not wish to alarm you, but I think that I love you."

Christian smiled in turn, "I...I think so too."

"Stay with me." The Alpha said softly. "You deserve so much more than those shitty boarding houses. It isn't much but, compared to them, my place is luxurious and you will be safe there." Christian would no longer have to worry about paying rent, about struggling to get his bills covered, about crusty landlords pounding on his bedroom door or leering at him as he passed by on his way into the city. The Omega would be free to write all day and night, for as long as he pleased, "Completely protected."

"Okay," Christian replied with a nod. "Okay, let's do it!" And, on that note, he reached up, gently placing his hands on Vallon's cheeks and guiding him down into another kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, seems like Vallon and Christian's relationship is picking up a bit. I wonder what may be coming in the next chapter that would have that happening ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	5. In Your Eyes

The Dead Rabbits held a piece of property not far from the square. On the outside, it looked like a rundown old barn, and...admittedly it was not in the best shape but the Rabbits had learned to make due with what they had. Intricate scaffoldings created upper levels that stretched up to the ceiling with rooms separated by hanging clothes and boxes, and the basement had been carved out into various caverns connected through a series of tunnels. Where everyone had their own space, Vallon was free to walk the building without fear. He had a large space in the basement that he had turned into a miniature apartment, and he also had a private space on the uppermost level that connected to the roof if he ever needed a quick escape. That was the space he had given to Christian though he made it clear that the writer was more than welcome to join him among the lower levels but the young writer was more than happy with the space he was given. 

Christian was sitting at the old desk that Vallon had the gang haul up for him so that he could write without having to come downstairs when the Alpha appeared that day. He came up behind him and pressed a kiss to Christian's cheek. He inhaled deeply. "You smell nice today." He said softly. "Did you do something different?" 

"Just today?" Christian asked with a slight chuckle. "I have no idea what you're referring to."

"You don't?" Vallon asked and went in for another sniff. That did not sound possible. Christian always smelled so sweet, like peaches and fresh cream, but today he smelled so sweet it was almost bitter. He had to have done something different. There was no way it could have happened unintentionally? "That's weird." He remarked and the writer abruptly shot up from his seat, nearly knocking the Alpha over as he did. "Christian? Are you alright?"

"Fine!" The writer said too quickly that it could be convincing. "Fine! Sorry...I will...just be working on my writing today." He started to slowly walk back towards the bed and pulled one of the blankets off the mattress that he quickly wrapped around himself. "Sorry."

Well, Vallon was not going to argue. The boy wanted to work and Vallon had some things to do around the city so he would leave him to it. He pressed another quick kiss to Christian's cheek before making his way back down to the ground level where the gang was waiting for him. They were gone for a couple of hours; mostly just lurking the docks to see if they could recruit anyone coming off the boats and collecting some dues from local business owners that had been using the Rabbits to keep the Natives at bay. By the time Vallon had returned, the gang had spread out to take advantage of the city's nightlife and it was down to just him, Happy Jack, and Maggie who had separated from him to go and play a game of cards on the main level. Vallon decided to head downstairs, get cleaned up, and take a nap for a couple of hours. When he got down to his room, however, he quickly noticed that something was wrong. His bed, which was no means extravagant, had been completely stripped of his blankets and pillows. "Huh." Vallon mumbled and decided to head upstairs and see if Christian, the only person who had been there all day, had seen anything. It seemed really strange though. Who was dumb enough to break into the Dead Rabbit's place and only steal blankets and pillows? He reached the top of the stairs, pushed back the curtain to Christian's room and asked, "Have you seen my-" His eyes nearly popped out of his skull at what he saw. The second the curtain had been pulled back, Vallon was hit by a wave of the strongest, sweetest scent he had ever encountered and was treated to the absolutely delicious sight of Christian, his sweet Christian curled up in his missing blankets and pillows, one of which was currently between the boy's legs in what he could only assume was a way to find relief without an Alpha present. Though the blankets covered him, Vallon knew that he was naked and what skin he could see had been twinged pink from blush and was covered in a light layer of sweat. Christian jerked his head up and the look of pure horror that dawned across his face once he realized he had been caught redhanded was one that Vallon would never be able to forget. "Ah! Val!" He squeaked. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! This isn't what it looks like-!"

"Ar-Are those my blankets?" Vallon asked. Why would he, in the throughs of heat, risk venturing downstairs to take some of his-...Oh. "Oh, Christian."

Christian adjusted his blankets around himself and, despite the blush spreading across his cheeks, managed a small little smile that guaranteed trouble for them both, "Vallon." 

"Christian?" Vallon asked and at that exact moment Christian decided to sit up further and the blankets he'd pooled around himself slid down exposing copious amounts of pale, milky skin. More than copious, actually; the blankets slid down and suddenly Vallon could see everything. Sweet, supple thighs; a soft, flat stomach; perfectly curved hips that looked like they were made for Vallon to grab onto as he pounded into the smaller man; and...what the fuck? Vallon's eyes widened in surprise when his gaze went lowered and landed on the appendage between Christian's legs. Christian, his sweet, blushing writer, had the cock of a horse! While Vallon's was still bigger, Christian's was far larger than any Omega cock Vallon had ever seen! Fuck, it was bigger than some of the guys in the Dead Rabbits! No wonder his girl Satine had been so hung up on him! "Oh sweet Mary mother of God..."

"Val." The man in question shivered. How the fuck did Christian manage to swirl his name around in such a way that it sounded obscene? Vallon felt as if he should go straight to the nearest church and sit in confessional for three hours, just to remove the feeling sin that clouded around him. But then Christian narrowed his eyes and started to make a come-hither gesture with his hand. "Come here."

"Christ," Vallon let out a low, nervous chuckle. He was moving before he had the chance to even realize that he was but stopped as soon as he reached the edge of the bed. "Are you sure..?" He asked. He needed to know that Christian was sure because once they began, he knew damn well that he was not going to be able to stop. There would be no coming back from this. "If we do this, this is it. I'll place my mark on you." Christian had already told him that story, of how he and Satine had to avoid leaving marks or risk ensuring the Duke's wrath, but Vallon had nothing to hide. If anything, he wanted the world to know exactly who the sweet little writer belonged to and he wanted the same in turn. He wanted Christian's mark on his neck. "Knot you." Fuck, his mouth was watering at the thought; at the mental image of Christian writhing and moaning beneath him as he filled him up with his seed. "You'll be mine." 

"Yours," Christian repeated with the sweetest little whine. He reached up and gently caressed the other man's cheek. "My alpha."

That was more than enough for Vallon. His cock was becoming almost painfully hard and he did not believe that he could hold back any longer. He dropped next to Christian on the bed and let out a low, rumbling growl, "Mine." His sweet little Omega...his precious Christian. Vallon wrapped his arms around the Omega's waist and pulled him up and into his lap. "I'm going to put out that fire in your belly, replace it with my pups!"

"Val!" It was then that it came to Christian's attention that Vallon was wearing far too much clothing for Christian's liking and he set about getting his Alpha out of his clothing. 

"Such a sweet thing." Vallon murmured. Christian succeeded in getting his shirt and collar off, tossing them onto the floor to be recovered later but before they could start on the Alpha's pants, something caught the Priest's attention. His pant-leg, the one that Christian was resting on, was getting damp and it did not take a genius to figure out why that was. He let Christian finish getting his pants off and adding them to the collection of clothing resting on the floor before gently pushing Christian off onto his back, and crawling after him to get a better look and Christ, the sight of the Omega had Vallon's cock throbbing with need. Christian's entrance was positively dripping with slick and Vallon couldn't help himself. He leaned in and dipped his tongue inside, enjoying the adorable little mewls that came from his Omega as a result. After a couple of minutes of tasting him, Vallon pulled out and looked up at Christian with a smirk on his lips, "You're soaking wet, my Darling. Oh, what a precious thing you are."

Christian's face was completely red and he tried to hide his face behind his arm. Vallon chuckled, "Don't be afraid to be vocal, Sweetheart."

"I just...If the others hear me they may think-"

"What? That you're here getting fucked? Let them. They know better than to say anything about it." It was only Maggie and Happy Jack anyway and the both of them knew better than to dare and interrupt. He pressed a kiss to Christian's cheek, "Besides, I want to hear you." He spit onto a couple of his fingers and carefully reached down and was able to push two of his fingers into the Omega. 

"Oh Val!" Christian cried out in a loud, wanton moan. 

Vallon groaned and started to move his fingers around, stretching the other. "You're so tight. Tell me, my Dear, are you a virgin?"

"No."

"Your body betrays you."

"I have had sex before," Christian insisted. Lots of sex, actually. As much as she had enjoyed just laying around listening to Christian read off whatever he was working on at the time, she had equally enjoyed pulling her beau into bed with her and rolling around between the sheets for a couple of hours. They had enjoyed it regularly, sometimes daily, so by no means did Christian consider himself to be a virgin in any sense of the word. "Just...not with me underneath." He explained. Vallon tightened his grip around Christian's waist and rolled them over, lifting Christian back up into his lap. "What-!"

"You're not underneath now." Vallon pointed out. 

"Cheeky," Christian replied with an eye roll. Vallon was really going to make him say it, wasn't he? "I meant...I was not penetrated."

Vallon's smirk grew and he leaned in to press another kiss to Christian's lips as his reward for being honest. "That's what I wanted to hear." He was tempted to flip them back over but Vallon couldn't find many issues with their current position. The only thing he wanted was to see the Omega's beautiful face when he pushed into him for the very first time and now he had his arms wrapped around him, Christian's legs around his waist, and everything seemed so perfect to him. He spit into his hand and used it to adjust himself, lining up his cock with Christian's hole, before pushing in, "I will carry the honor of being your first with pride."

"Val!" Christian exclaimed, his nails digging into Vallon's shoulders. "Oh Christ-!"

* * *

Unlike some of the others who hung around the various caverns and scaffoldings that the Dead Rabbits called home, Monk did not spend every second of the day there and was more of a guest than a permanent resident. He was one of the few people associated with the gang who had his own place, his own bed that he paid for himself, but that did not mean he was opposed to stopping in from time to time to have a word with some of his friends. He entered and saw Happy Jack and Maggie sitting around playing a game of cards. There didn't seem to be anyone else around which should have been Monk's first clue that something was off. Hands tucked into his pockets, Monk started to walk towards the group and just as he opened his mouth to speak, a loud, guttural noise thundered from upstairs and had the man dropping to the ground out of fear. It sounded like a dragon or other legendary beast was overhead. Maggie and Happy Jack didn't even flinch. "What the fuck is that?!" Monk demanded. 

"The Priest is getting laid," Maggie explained and only looked up from her hand when one of the nearby scaffoldings started to rumble and shake. Either they had taken a break and were back at it for another round or they hadn't stopped yet and had decided to switch positions...again. "Fucking hell. They're going to bring this fucking place down."

"Ugh." Happy Jack's face twisted up with disgust as the mental image of what their fearless leader was currently doing entered his head. He forced himself to stare back at the cards in his hands. Just think about his hand. Just think about cards..."I'm not babysitting whatever fucking demon spawn they conceive tonight. I'll tell you that much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it clear that I haven't written a sex scene in, like, years? Oh well. Hope you enjoyed my terrible smut!


	6. What I Never Knew I Always Wanted

Vallon finished fixing his collar in the mirror and said over his shoulder to the figure lying in their bed. "Some of the gang will be stopping over soon. Go over territorial matters." He explained. It wouldn't take too long. Just a quick sit down with the gang and, as everyone stumbled out to go back to drinking, boxing, playing cards, or wandering the city, Vallon would return to the room in the caverns that he and his new mate had been occupying as of late. When he didn't get an immediate response to his statement, the Priest turned back around, "Christian are you alright?"

The man in question was laying on his side, head pressed against a pillow, and lazily looking up at the older man as he finished dressing. "No." He murmured softly. "My tummy hurts."

"Your tummy?" Vallon repeated, quirking an eyebrow. He approached the bed and knelt down next to his mate, placing his hand over Christian's forehead. "You don't have a fever." That narrowed down their list of possibilities. The food that they ate around here was not exactly high quality, odds were Christian just got ate something he shouldn't have the night before and that was what had his stomach in knots. He'd feel better once it was out of his system. 

"I know but I feel so gross." The Omega groaned and flopped his head back against the pillows. He wrapped his arms around his stomach just to hold himself and hope that it made him feel any better. It didn't. "I am tempted to stay in bed all day."

"Do it then." The other man replied with a shrug. Just because he was laying around in bed, didn't mean that Christian couldn't think and plot things out inside his head. But, even if he didn't, the writer could use a little bit of a break to just recuperate. "Think of it as a little break from your writing and once the gang leaves, I'll be able to cater to your every need."

Now wasn't that a pretty picture? Vallon, his big, strapping man, bringing him food and water, bending to his every desire. If Christian was feeling any better by the time the meeting ended, he had a couple of particular desires that he would love to see them act out together. Even though his heat had ended weeks ago, Vallon & Christian had been having sex on a daily basis if not more so. Whenever they were alone the pair couldn't keep their hands off each other, sometimes Vallon would initiate, would creep up behind his mate while he was at his desk writing, wrap his arms around him, and pull him back to bed or Christian would find Vallon, lifting weights or practicing his boxing abilities, and just give him a look that would have the Alpha scrambling over himself to chase Christian back to bed. That being said there was something that Christian enjoyed a lot more than countless rounds of mindblowing sex... "Like cuddles?" He asked with a grin. 

There was something truly wonderous about the differences in size between the two men, something that Vallon could never get enough of. When they were making love (not fucking though they did often too), the Omega was small enough that Vallon could wrap around him and hold him close and protect him. It was ridiculous but there was something truly fantastic about knowing that he could keep Christian safe. Another benefit of having a significantly smaller mate was how easily they just fit together regardless. The Alpha would be playing cards with his gang, Christian would come over and sit right in his lap, Vallon would rest his head on Christian's shoulder, and the game would continue uninterrupted but with the added bonus of having his mate to snuggle. "Like cuddles." He agreed and leaned in to press a kiss to the Omega's forehead. "So soft."

* * *

Gang meetings were always so predictable and, quick frankly, rather boring. A necessary evil to keep control in the Five Points but something that always left Vallon feeling a lot less energized than he had been when the meeting began. Maybe it was the constant bickering, the increased drunkenness among those who really should have remained sober for this, or the fact that by holding this meeting he was away from his mate, but whatever the reason Vallon was not a happy man and talks of sharing territory with the Natives did not do much to improve his mood. "-No we cannot give-" His rant about how the Natives could not be trusted was interrupted by a sound that was difficult to place and had the Alpha freezing midsentence. He looked around at the people gathered before him. Was this some kind of joke? Were they attempting to be funny? "What's that sound?" 

No one said anything. Vallon liked to believe, after years of working with these people, that he knew them quite well and if the looks they were exchanging amongst themselves were anything to go off of, they had no idea what was happening either. They heard the sound again and this time Vallon was able to get a vague idea of where it was coming from; beneath the floorboards, in the underground network, where only one person was currently staying. "Christian." Was all the Alpha was able to get out before he was jumping to his feet and barreling down the stairs back to his & Christian's room, not bothering to check and see if the others were following behind him or not. He reached the entry to the room where he had left him and found the writer ghastly pale, arms wrapped snuggly around his middle, bile staining his lips and the contents of his stomach splattered out over the cold, cave floor. 

Christian straightened himself up slowly, "...I threw up..." He murmured softly. As if that wasn't already clear. 

In the blink of an eye, Vallon was at his side, gently guiding the Omega back down into their bed. "Send for a doctor!" He shouted back up to the gang. "Blast the cost! Just get them here now!"

* * *

The rest of the Dead Rabbits went filing out the second the doctor arrived. It was safe to assume that, with Christian sick, Vallon's priorities had switched and now the last thing on his mind was gang business. Worse yet, if they stuck around there was a good chance that their leader was going to make one of them clean up after his mate and none of them were feeling up to the taste of scrubbing vomit away that day or any other say so they were gone before the idea could even pop into the Alpha's head. Vallon escorted the doctor down to Christian's side, only to be promptly shooed to the next room so that the doctor could address the writer one on one. The check-up itself was fairly quick, only lasting about a half-hour, before the doctor finally left Christian's room and approached Vallon again. The Alpha, in the meantime, had been occupying himself by wringing his hands together and whispering a prayer underneath his breath. "Is my mate going to be alright? He's been like this all day."

The doctor just smiled and waved him off, "He will be fine. Vomiting and nausea are completely normal symptoms in this early stage of pregnancy-"

Suddenly Vallon felt nauseous himself, "Pregnancy?" He repeated. 

"Yes. Congratulations, Father."

Far be it him to argue with a trained medical professional but Vallon could not prevent himself from asking, "Are you certain?"

"He has the normal symptoms. He is unwell, gross skin-"

"Excuse you." Vallon interrupted the doctor with a growl. How dare he imply, well or unwell, that any part of Christian was gross!?

The doctor paused for a second before taking the hint and correcting himself, "Loose skin, I mean. Growing softer."

"That's better."

* * *

After seeing the doctor to the door Vallon returned to the caverns. By now Christian had gotten comfortable in the bed again and was lying propped up against the pillows with the exception of one that he cuddled close to his chest, the blankets tucked securely around him, and a newly acquired bucket set at his bedside just in case he felt the need to empty his stomach contents again. Vallon approached him slowly and took a seat on the edge of the bed, "How are you feeling?" He asked. 

"Weird," Christian answered. "Not as bad as earlier but still strange."

"Full?" 

"A little," The Omega admitted. "Even though I shouldn't after everything I barfed up."

Vallon sighed and started to run his fingers through Christian's hair. "What did the good doctor have to say?" He asked. 

"That I was fine but I don't feel fine." And, unfortunately, Christian knew exactly why that was. Vallon may have been able to keep a straight face while lying to his comrades, but his mate was an entirely different audience. He knew whenever the Alpha was upset, whenever something was getting to him, and right now Vallon looked like he had just lost the Five Points. Christian sighed himself before asking, "He told you something different, didn't he?" All Vallon could do in response was nod and before he could think of the perfect thing to say in response, Christian felt water begin to build in his eyes and he made no effort to push back the tears. 

"Oh, sweetheart." Vallon cooed and wrapped his arms around his mate, pulling him close against his chest and just holding onto him as Christan openly wept into his shoulder. "Why are you crying, Baby?"

"I don't want to leave you!" The writer explained. Because there was only one possible explanation when a doctor was dancing around the subject and wouldn't discuss the issues head-on with their patients. He had seen this before...with Satine. "I don't want to die Val!"

"Oh Baby." Vallon cooed and placed a gentle kiss to Christian's forehead. "Oh Sweetheart." He leaned in again this time planting a kiss on both of his mate's cheeks. "You're not going to die." He assured him. "Quite the opposite, actually. You're giving me the most precious gift." Vallon placed one of his hands over Christian's stomach and smiled. At the moment it was flat, but soft, but soon it would start to swell and Vallon couldn't even begin to imagine just how beautiful his mate would look then. "You're pregnant, my Darling."

"Oh," Christian said. "Oh!" Well...that would explain some things...

"I am sorry that I didn't notice it sooner. We could have done something to make things easier for you-"

"I didn't know either." Christian pointed out and wiped his eyes off on his arm. "I just thought I had a cold or something." But this...this was something he could have never anticapted. The Omega broke out in a grin and he placed his hand over his mate's. "We're going to have a baby, Vallon!" 


	7. Blessed

Priest Vallon was already up and waiting for them by the time his generals arrived that morning. Happy Jack, Maggie, and McCloin shuffled in and took their seats at the table, Jack already producing a deck of cards from his pocket so they could get started on a game. He grinned and nodded an acknowledgment at his fearless leader, "Morning Priest." 

"Morning." McGloin added and made himself comfortable, kicking his feet up on top of the table. 

Maggie rolled her eyes and shoved the man's feet out of her way before asking, "How's your boy doing? Looked awful pale the other night." And that was putting things lightly. She had been tempted to stay and see for herself what kind of shit was about to go down but those bastard doctors always put her on edge and Vallon had insisted that he had things covered so she decided to wait. "What'd the doctor say?"

"Christian is perfectly fine," Vallon assured her but somehow he didn't seem quite so convincing. Maggie cocked an eyebrow but said nothing else. That was the thing with the Priest, he was never good at keeping secrets. She leaned back as her leader shifted in his seat, chewing at his lower lip before finally biting the bullet and delivering the verdict the doctor had bestowed upon them. "He's expecting..."

"Expecting what?" McGloin asked and, when Vallon didn't answer him immediately, he feared the worst. "Dammit Priest, I'm not going to another one of those shows-"

Happy Jack looked up from his cards and shook his head, "You're a fucking idiot." 

Vallon groaned and rubbed his temples. He really needed to start recruiting some smarter people. "Christian's pregnant, McGloin. We're going to have a baby." 

"The father is going to be a father!" Happy Jack declared and clapped his fearless leader on the shoulder, "Right on, Old Man!"

"Wha's going on..?" A groggy yet familiar voice called out and Christian rounded the corner, joining the group already assembled. He rubbed some sleep from his eyes as he spoke, "You guys woke me up."

"My apologies, Darling." Vallon replied and before Christian had a second to even think about protesting, gently guided the Omega down into his lap. Still tired and on the verge of sleep, Christian did not resist him and opted instead to rest his head against his mate's chest. Out of the corner of his half-lidded eyes though, Christian noticed that both Maggie and Happy Jack were smiling at him strangely. McGloin, on the other hand, looked indifferent but that wasn't anything new. 

"...They look smug. What did you tell them?"

Vallon just smirked and pressed a gentle kiss to Christian's cheek, "Nothing that isn't true, my Dear." 

"He's glowing," Maggie whispered in awe to her cohorts.

McGloin groaned and buried his head in his hands, grumbling underneath his breath. "This is a fucking madhouse..." 

* * *

How he was going to survive the third trimester was something that Christian had yet to figure out. It was hard enough keeping busy around the Dead Rabbits' lair, even with his new book on the typewriter, the other rabbits dropping by to keep him company, and Vallon constantly trailing behind him ready and willing to cater to his every need and desire. The truth was Christian just didn't like being cooped up for so long. He needed to get out, need fresh air, or else he risked going completely crazy. Luckily Vallon was more than willing to accompany him, more than willing to let Christian hold onto his arm as they walked through the square, and growl at anyone who dared to look at them funny. A protectiveness that only grew the closer Christian got to the nine-month mark and as his stomach started to swell. At least twice during their walks, Vallon would stop to place his hands over the bump and ask, "How are you feeling?" 

"I feel like I want some ale." The Omega replied this particular day, earning himself a hearty chuckle from his mate. Glad to see he found it funny. While Christian certainly enjoyed a drink from time to time, ale had never placed high on his list of favorites. This kid, on the other hand, seemed to have inherited his father's constitution. "The things your child has me craving."

"A true Irish babe." Vallon said and placed his hand over Christian's stomach. "Someday we'll share a drink of ale together. All of us."

"You really think that's wise Priest," An all too familiar voice called out causing the couple to come to a halt. Christ, it was like every time they stepped out into the square Bill the fucking Butcher was there waiting for them. He needed to get a fucking hobby or something, this was getting pathetic. "To be strutting your whore around the city in such a condition."

"Hello Bill." Vallon greeted the man with a slight wave. Had they not been spewing insults at each other, his tone may have given the impression that he was greeting an old friend. "I thought I smelled rotting meat."

"Beats the scent of a dead rabbit," Bill quickly replied. "You hear me? He goes into labor on the sidewalk and it will create quite the scene. More so than the one you're already making."

Christian rolled his eyes, "I'm only five months." Not that it was any of his business...

"Jesus Christ." The disgust and rage that had been clouding the Butcher's face gave way to genuine curiosity as he tilted his head and tried to get a better view of the Omega's bump, tried to assess the situation without getting too close. As bold as he was, Bill knew that getting right up in Christian's face would only earn him a punch in the face. Just staring at Christian's stomach, however, wasn't going to yield him the answers that he desired so after a couple of minutes of pointless staring Bill asked, "How many you got in there then?"

"One," Vallon answered for his mate. "I'm a big man Bill. I make big babies."

And just like that, the disgusted scowl that had a permanent residency on Bill the Butcher's face returned home."Bloody disgusting the both of you." He said in a low growl and took that as his cue to leave, shuffling back towards his place more than a little unsatisfied with how the exchange had played out. 

"Always nice talking to you Bill," Christian called after him and the couple both snickered when the Butcher involuntarily shuddered. It was fun under normal circumstances to mess with the Butcher, to annoy him, to piss him off, but there was just something so delicious about being able to torment him knowing fully well that Bill wouldn't dare raise a hand in his defense. No one was that stupid. Even if it occurred behind closed doors, the Dead Rabbits would have an easy time convincing every other person in the Five Points to take up arms against the man who would dare try and harm a pregnant Omega. Christian smiled and nuzzled into the Alpha's side, "I wish someone would just kill him already." He stated but both he and Vallon knew that he was not serious. Vallon just chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss to his mate's cheek, 

"I'm a bad influence on you."

* * *

Several pages into his latest book the pain became too much and Christian had to stop. He groaned and rose to his feet, abandoning his writer's desk in favor of doing a lap of the room in hopes that the exercise, no matter how brief, would distract him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vallon lower the paper he had been reading and the writer could not prevent the soft blush that spread across his cheeks. "My chest hurts." He explained. 

"You're probably just getting your milk." Vallon said in a tone that was very matter-of-fact. "Your tits are going to be sore."

Christian narrowed his eyes and shot his mate a disapproving frown. "Don't call my chest tits." He warned though any possible punishment he could come up with should Vallon ignore him would inevitably fall through as the Omega was too tired and too needy at this point to actually carry them out. He paused to consider all of his options before deciding that there was no harm in checking. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the bed followed shortly by his undershirt then went to inspect himself in the mirror. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary; his stomach was swollen to the point where it was impossible to see his toes and it wouldn't be much longer until Christian had to waddle around the building or rely on Vallon entirely. As for his chest though, everything seemed normal. His chest was still flat, albeit soft and growing increasingly tender. The writer dared to give one of his pectorals a poke and immediately let out a soft whimper. Not the stupidest thing he'd ever done but it was pretty high up on the list...

Vallon set his paper down and rose to his feet, sneaking behind his mate and wrapping his arms around him, "Want some help?" He asked. 

"What are you planning-?" The Alpha decided to answer that question by leaning in to press a kiss to his mate's cheek while his hands moved down to rub his nipples. "Val!" Christian whined. "Val, remember what the doctor said..." No sex. And hadn't that decree been handed down to the couple like a death sentence? At nearly five months into his pregnancy, this had been the longest Christian had gone without sex since he and Vallon had started seeing each other. And Vallon, well, Vallon had never gone without sex. His only break had been during the early days of his relationship with the young writer and it was growing increasingly difficult for him to keep his hands to himself. He was proud and the sight of his mate, breed, glowing, and barefoot wandering the lair of the Dead Rabbits, was more than enough to make him want to just scoop the Omega up into his arms, toss him onto their bed, and fuck him his brains out. Little kisses, holding Christian in his lap, and patting his butt whenever he passed by just wasn't cutting it anymore. But they needed to do this! They couldn't risk causing any harm to the baby!...but then Vallon dipped his head and started to press a trail of soft little kisses along Christian's neck, moving directly over his mating mark, while his hands trailed lower and disappeared beneath the waist of Christian's pants. "I don't want our son to be a pervert..." The Omega whined but then Vallon's hand grazed the length of his cock and suddenly he couldn't handle it anymore. "Fuck it!" The writer shouted and spun around, planting both his hands on Vallon's shoulders and guiding him into a deep kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It goes without saying but DO NOT drink when you're pregnant. Back in the 1800s, cravings were seen as something that needed to be followed and no one had any objections to drinking while expecting, hence the inclusion here. Also back then once it became clear that you were pregnant, you were expected to abstain from sex or else risk making your child some kind of pervert hence Christian's concern. If only he knew...


	8. With Arms Wide Opened

Christian hesitated for a moment before rolling over and giving the man sleeping next to him a gentle shove, "Val?" He asked and when he didn't receive a response, he attempted to give him yet another shove. "Vallon?"

"Christian...? What-What time is it?" It was often hard to tell the time of day around the lair of the dead rabbits. The lower levels were dark, dimly lit, and the only major difference in the upper levels were the windows, many of which had to be boarded up to try and keep the drafts out. Without checking the clocks, the only real way of estimating the time was to go down to the main level and open the doors to get a look. Vallon rubbed at his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness of the room around them. For a moment, there was nothing but darkness, so at least that hinted that it was either late in the evening or very early in the morning. He couldn't see Christian though the omega's hand was squeezing his forearm.

"It's time." Christian finally spoke again after what felt like an eternity of silence. His voice felt so small, threatening to break underneath only those two words. 

Vallon groaned and with his free arm reached up to lazily scratch at the side of his head, "What time though?" This wouldn't be the first time his mate had woken him up in the middle of the night for some sort of craving, whether it be for food or sex, that Vallon had gotten used to the disturbances by now. Still, he would like to have a rough estimate of how much time he would have to return to sleep once he got the omega settled again. 

There was a slight pause when suddenly the silence between them was shattered by Christian letting out an ear-piercing scream. "It's time!" His grip on Vallon's arm tightened to the point where Vallon would not be surprised if he temporarily cut off the blood flow, his nails digging into the meat of Vallon's arm.

It was remarkable how pain could help clue things together and get the gears inside of one's head moving again. Vallon returned Christian's scream with one of his own, "Shit!" He couldn't believe this. Right now?! Were any of the midwives in the Five Points even awake right now? Christian's grip slowly began to loosen as he worked through the pain of the contraction that had seized him. When he finally let go of Vallon's arm, the other was able to move around to the side of the bed, "Shit, fucking, are you alright? Do you feel okay?"

If Christian was a violent man or one who was quick to anger, he may have struck Vallon for saying something so stupid. Lucky for them both, Christian was already too tired to throw himself to the mercy of the anger that swelled within him upon hearing that statement. He heaved a sigh instead and replied, "It isn't pleasant," While some would call him delicate, Christian liked to believe that he was capable of withstanding pain but he knew that it was only going to get worse. He would prefer to have someone who understood what was going on and knew what to do before things got out of his control. "Get the midwife..."

"Right!" Vallon got up and headed towards the stairs. Someone had to be passed out on one of the lower levels; Happy Jack, Maggie, McGloin, somebody he could send out to find one of the midwives located near the Five Points. Someone had to be awake or sober enough to comply with his demands. He found the trio in question dozing off on the main level, a half-empty bottle of whiskey between them. Turning his attention to the body nearest the stairs, which so happened to be McGloin, Vallon gave the other man a sharp kick to his arse to wake him up. "Up!" 

McGloin yelped and it was enough to cause the other two to stir. Vallon wasted no time hauling them up to their feet, one by one, ignoring the groggy complaints he received from the group. "One of you needs to go find Missus McGrady...or Missus O'Connel...or that lass near the docks...anyone who will answer the door at this hour so long as they understand how to deliver a baby!" That was enough to snap Happy Jack into focus and sober him up in a damn flash. Rather than risk lingering around the building and getting called into assist, he took off running to find someone to assist them. That left Maggie and McGloin standing around looking stupid and feeling useless. Rather than deal with them directly and already feeling the need to return to his mate's side, Vallon gave them something simple to occupy their time. "Get us some water and some towels and then hurry back."

With his ducks in line, Vallon proceeded back upstairs to wait with Christian until further assistance arrived. Why did he feel so helpless? They'd had nine months to prepare for this, nine months where Priest Vallon had spent every hour of every day ensuring that his beloved was comfortable and well taken care of; that he never felt an ounce of stress, that Bill was kept far from him, that all of his needs were taken care of and now...now he just felt completely useless knowing that his mate was in pain and he was stuck at the mercy of whatever midwife would open their doors this early. He reached the top of the stairs and found Christian exactly where he had left him. The only difference now was that Christian had pulled a couple of other pillows behind him in order to get more comfortable. Vallon smiled and knelt down next to him on the floor, carefully taking hold of Christian's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, " _Mo ghrá_..."

"It hurts," Christian whined and squeezed back. "I think I'm going to puke."

"You are doing so well Christian. Just breathe." Vallon replied and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. "If you need some, I can get you some chloroform."

Christian just shook his head and held onto his mate's hand for dear life. The contractions were still fairly far apart but he could feel another coming on and he needed something to ground him, something to hold onto to keep him from being reduced to a trembling, sobbing mess. Another three contractions passed before the couple heard the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs and Happy Jack appeared followed by a woman familiar to the Five Points district, "Where is he?"

"There-" Vallon stated but before he could even finish that sentence the midwife pushed past him, nearly knocking the leader of the Dead Rabbits flat on his back as she hurried to take her place and get everything ready for the delivery. Vallon straightened himself back up and called after her but his complaint fell on deaf ears. There were far more important matters to attend to than the hurt feelings of some thug. 

Happy Jack chuckled and hooked his arms underneath Vallon's shoulders, hauling his leader back up to his feet and then offering him an encouraging clap on the back. "Come on, Father. Have a drink. Sooth your nerves." He offered and guided the other back over to the stairs to take him down to one of the lower levels where they would be out of the way, "Maggie's gone out to get us some cigars for you." 

"Bit early isn't it?" Vallon asked and looked back over his shoulder. A very strong part of him wanted to just push Jack off him and race back into the room, take hold of Christian's hand, and not let go until he heard their baby cry and saw his mate holding the little one. Though he never spoke of it before with anyone, including his dear Christian, Vallon was quite familiar with the dangers associated with childbirth. His own mother had died giving birth to his younger sister, the babe joining her shortly after following what could only be described as a complicated delivery. No, he wouldn't be satisfied, his fears would not be quelled until he knew that both Christian and the baby were safe. 

"Stop worrying," Happy Jack replied with a grin. " _Tosaíonn an saol, tosaíonn an saol_."

* * *

Sure to his word, Happy Jack poured Vallon a nice, frosty pint for him to enjoy while they waited, along with one for himself. Maggie appeared not long after, carrying a case of cigars underneath her arm that she happily deposited onto the table in front of them. McGloin disappeared. Quite frankly, Vallon was not surprised. He never did well in such intimate moments and would come back once he felt it was safe to do so. In the meantime, Vallon was happy to enjoy a break from him. Well, not happy. His stomach was in knots and while he was usually able to put back his drink with ease, he had been nursing the one pint Happy Jack had given him for what had to have been hours while his companions easily drank him under the table. They drink but no one spoke. Instead, they listened to the muffled sounds coming from upstairs; the groans, the moans, the cries that escaped from Christian's lips, and they waited. Until the groans were cut short by the sharp sound of a baby's cry. Without a word to the others, Vallon jumped to his feet and proceeded up the stairs. He reached the top and froze when he saw the scene before him in the room. Christian was covered in a layer of sweat, hair a mess, red in the face, but by God if he wasn't the most beautiful that Vallon had ever seen. He approached the bed slowly, almost as if he was afraid that if he moved too quickly his mate would disappear before his eyes. Christian heaved a soft sigh, "Vallon."

Vallon took a seat on the edge of the bed and leaned in to press a kiss to Christian's forehead, "You did so beautifully, my Darling. So wonderful."

The midwife chuckled and turned around, finally giving Vallon a good look at his son for the first time and he could practically feel his heart melting inside of his chest. She approached the couple carefully, trying not to disturb the baby she'd only just gotten to soothed in her arms as she handed him over to his mother. "He's a big one." She said with a slight chuckle, "Congratulations."

"My son." Vallon spoke softly, "Our son."

"I want him to have an Irish name." After his father. A name that the rest of the gang would take pride in. Christian couldn't help but think that if he dared to try and name his son any proper English names, he would never hear the end of it. Sure, they wouldn't say anything too terrible to his face but the Omega liked to think that he had grown to know his mate's inner circle quite well and he knew that they would tease them both until their son was a grown man and perhaps even beyond that. "Do you think he looks more like a Liam or a Sean?"

"He looks like a Christian to me." Vallon replied. Christian just snorted a laugh at the suggestion. As sweet as it was, having two people named Christian living together in the lair of the Dead Rabbits would get complicated as the boy started to grow and new members started to join the gang. So Christian II was out of the question. Vallon ran his hand gently across his son's cheek, his cold heart melting when his son shivered and nuzzled against his father's hand. He cracked a small smile, "Oisin." He stated softly and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his son's forehead. 


End file.
